Archive for June, 2008

Bitch Boobies

Day 10,148 – Friday – 06 Asadha 1930 – 22 Jamadi us Sani 1429 – 27 June 2008

I was watching TV and about half an hour ago there appeared on screen a woman who had huge and beautiful breasts. And I mean, perfectly semi circular(spherical), large, ample, supple and absolutely amazing. I would like to apologize to all of my str8 friends for not finding out her name so that all of you could also have enjoyed checking her out online. But sorry. Instead of trying to bring beauty into your lives, I was thinking about what she would look like if she had bitch boobies. I have just concocted the term Bitch Boobies. That is boobies like a bitch. Multiple boobies. I was visualizing the chick with about six boobies. All over her chest and stomach. I think this prooves that I do have the ability to think ever so differently from the rest of my race. But, I think with six boobies, all the more for you boys! Carmen Electra; enjoy?!

I was watching a very song released by Shiraz Uppal. And, despite knowing that you will all judge me and hate me for saying something so seriously disturbingly shocking. But, I think he is very very very hot. And since I do have quite a bit of command over the English Language I will refrain from converting my train of thoughs and consciousness when I saw him to words on this blog. It just might be too much for my readers. And my own conscience when I read it later on

 

Brain Freeze

Day 10,145 – Tuesday – 03 Asadha 1930 – 19 Jamadi us Sani 1429 – 24 June 2008

So, I seem to have found an amazing place to eat at. Bread People. Absolutely amazing eggs. I would have to say that they have the best eggs in Karachi. Of course this does not include the rapidly ageing eggs of my friend RW who says that she has the best eggs in Karachi. Despite being exceptionally opinionated and judgemental, the only reason why I choose to say this exceptionally diplomatic thing this is to avoid the inevitable post blogging argument with her. Back to non human eggs. Bread People on Khayaban e Ittihad is absolutely good at making eggs.

I went with friends and decided to try their chili omelette. For all of you reading this, the basic requirement of your life should be to try this as soon as possible because it is the most delectable item on the face of the planet and you will love me all the more for this. Coming back to non human eggs I ordered lemon slush with the chili omelette.

Amazing combination.

Ten minutes into the egg. I decided that I need something cold to brush away the chili flavour. Like any normal human being, which usually I am not, I took a large swig of the slush. I was already suffereing with my mouth burning due to the chili. And I started feeling it. It was coming on. I knew that it was going to happen. And I couldnt do anything. I had to try to stop it. But I could feel is grow slowly and gradually, it started from my ear lobes and spread to my head. Brain freeze. It took two seconds, but to me it felt like an age.

Shocked, battered and reeling I decided to eat something hot immediately. To mitigate the effects of the oncoming brain freeze. I took two large bites of the chili omelette. Fuck. Too spicy. My tongue was killing me because it was so fucking spicy. Like any brain dead imbecilic human being, I took another slug of the lemon slush. Fuck. Too cold. Another jet of brain freeze.

Chili Omelette. Lemon Slush. Chili Omelette. Lemon Slush. Fuck. Fuck me! Why the fuck do I act like a fucking brain dead automaton when I have a brain, the ability to use it, and the ability to understand that I need to stop this spiralling vicious circle of pain and stupidity. But it didnt work out that way.

I am such a fucking idiot. Who in their right mind would do the same thing. No one. So Ladies and Gentlemen, I take a bow. For I am Jalal.

BH

Day 10,142 – Saturday – 31 Jyaistha 1930 – 16 Jamadi us Sani 1429 – 21 June 2008

Still suffering from a long bout of writers block. I apologize for not adding all the usual colour and flavour to your lives. I have a lot to tell; rest assured. Hopefully tomorrow.

As for now. I am typing a quick post from BH’s very small, compact and weirdly quirky laptop.

It’s very interesting blogging from another PC.

Oh, and yes,  I gave BH my blog addy. She went through it, took special exception to her and her husband being called loosers in a previous post. So, I will set the record straight. BH, you are your husband are not loosers. You are a very interesting couple. The most interesting in the world. There. I said it. Are you happy now? What more do you guys want from me! Why is it never enough. Enough with the theatrics Jalal! Good! So, BH, is this ok?

Boss

Day 10,130 – Monday – 19 Jyaistha 1930 – 04 Jamadi us Sani 1429 – 09 June 2008

I hate my boss. Dont get me wrong. He is a good guy. He is a good professional. He is a good human being. And he is incredibly irritating. Basically, he is human and that should be enough. But it hardly ever is. Noone wants asshole boss. Some might accept boss. But we all want super boss. Well, they dont exist. At least not in my realm of reality. If you do happen to come across one, please call me immediately, so I can start working with him/her.

Uffffff. The guy repeated the same thing six times today. How the fuck do I know? Why the fuck do I know this for sure? Because I counted. And why in fucks name would I do that??? Because he does repeat a lot and I actually counted.

Why do I get a feeling that I seriously need a life?

In addition to all this excessive talking, I am beginning to realize that I have some version or form of dyslexia. I was reading the previous post and there are times where I have typed the absolutely wrong word. Of instead of Right. And Gone instead of London. And other such things. I do that. I never correct it because I think that is self censorship and that it murders the concept of stream of consciousness.

Wow. Fuck. I guess I can already see a dyslexic mistake.

Now, should I go to a shrink or what?

A a a a a a r r r r r r r r r g g g g g g g g h h h h h h h h h h h h h.

Travel

Day 10,126 – Thursday – 15 Jyaistha 1930 – 30 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 05 June 2008

The world is much much larger than me and my friend AI wanted, or would have liked, it to be today. We want to go for a week long break somewhere. Anywhere. So, like all hot blooded, brain dead idiots we decided to talk to our different travel agents. Mine in Karachi. His in Dubai. And like the innocent vulture spawn that travel agents are, they decided to fleece us of all our money and then slaughter us and finally sell us for parts. I had a list of 29 locations, AI had a list of 12 locations and all in all we had a list of 36 location that we can go to. Decisions are difficult with so much choice. So we narrowed it down to Istanbul, Sri Lanka and Maldives. Lets see what AI says tomorrow. I want to go to Istanbul.

Amongst the three, the only explanation that I can give for going to Istanbul is, for want of a better word – Phallic. Yes, like all other men out there, I too think with my dick. As is the case. And as it should be. And as I like my men. Women do not like it. They do not agree with it. But, for men, there is one thing. Breeding. And that is it. So Sri Lankans and Maldivans dont do it as much for me as Turks. And as Turkey is open Homosexually and there are clubs and stuff. I am getting too far ahead of myself. Of course, the one week will be a drunken haze of walking through bazaars, going to clubs of the “G” kind as my friend A from Lahore likes to call it, and of course enjoying the beautiful city.

Oh and yes, whichever one of you readers was searching for “gay love in karachi” and landed on my blog. Please, please, please, send me an email. Now.

Feeding

Day 10,125 – Wednesday – 14 Jyaistah 1930 – 29 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 04 June 2008

Saturday night, a large group of losers, me and my friend HS and his wife decide to go for food on the highway. Mind you, Saturday night. The rest of the world is getting drunk and then having meaningless lovemaking on banana leafs and persian carpets. And we are going for food to the other end of my known universe. After travelling through disgusting traffic, we reached the desired location. Fed on inordinate amounts of fatty, fried, meaty delights. And, to our most utter surprise, on our return journey, decided to take the Liari Expressway, and were home in less than half an hour.

I would have to say that after eating for three people, returning home at midnight, sleepy as mary-fucking-hellish-poppins it was an absolutely amazing surprise to cut half an hour of traffic from our drive. I would rate it at 0.789302 orgasms.

Oh, and despite the exercise (I ran 2.7 Kms today) I dont see any drastic changes. The patrician signage of the extended stomach is there. My butt is still large and squashy. And of course, I realized today, that I have man boobs. I mean fucking shit. If I wore an A sized bra; it would actually do me good. So I guess I will shift to absolutely nothing other than fruit for lunch.

Damnit! I want something to email and tell me he loves me, and meet up with me and make ever sweet love to me whilst respecting me as a person and loving me back. WELL!!! And in case you are reading this (stupidest fucking brainless logically devoid question to ask) and you are not that guy, please set me up with a friend of yours.

Thank you, and good bye. From yours trule, psychotics united.

Daylight

Day 10,122 – Sunday – 11 Jyaistha 1930 – 26 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 01 June 2008

Here I am, wallowing atop a billion interesting stories on a daily basis. And, here I am, in a severe case of writers block. I will try to write something tomorrow.

A new month has started four hours ago. Pakistan is again on Daylight savings time, we are now at GMT + 6 hours. My friend is back from Dubai for the weekend. We went to Fanoos last night and discussed, relationships; how it is more difficult for women to find good men than the other way around; Lions, Lionesses, and the wierd morally corrupt family structure of the pride; and finally how woman are man destroyers. We went to Fanoos tonight and cackled like a group of drunk hyena chickens discussing the Punjabi language and its beautiful uses. I met a Lahori guy, who immediately told me that we need to friends and nothing more, serious ego diminishing activities. The weight loss, diet control and exercise regimens are going very well; I feel that I have actually lost some weight. I have joined classes to learn a foreign language, so that is quite cool. My change of job and how I think it has made me a lot cooler professionally and personally. And of course, last but not the least, why the fuck is my right heel in so much fucking pain?